Page 14 of Penance (Rising From the Ashes #2)

Theo

M y head is pounding when I reach the courthouse, and I’d do just about anything to turn around and go back home. Unfortunately, my ex-wife is a narcissist, and that won’t be happening. So, with great reluctance, I get out of my truck and walk into the courthouse.

The building sits in the middle of the town square.

It’s one of the older buildings in town, with beautiful red bricks and proud white pillars standing tall.

It’s part of what makes Benton Falls so picturesque when you drive into town.

I usually love this building, but walking into it now feels like stepping into hell.

The knot of my tie digs into my Adam’s Apple, and I reach up to adjust it.

I must have done that a hundred times on the drive over here.

I was tempted to yank it off and throw it out the window, but if the tie is the difference between a judge seeing me as a stand-up, respectable citizen and a deadbeat father, then I’ll keep the tie all day.

I’m so lost in my worries as I walk that I don’t notice someone stepping up beside me until they speak, and then when I see her, I wonder how I didn’t before.

“Hey,” Lily says, her voice a beacon of light in the darkness I am drowning in today.

I turn to face her and scold myself for not preparing before I did because the woman is beautiful, and every time I look at her, it knocks the breath from my lungs.

She’s wearing a form-fitting dress that hugs the curve of her hips, and I physically bite my tongue as a reminder to keep my eyes to myself.

“Hey,” I say, sounding like I’ve run a marathon without training for it first.

“Do you mind if I walk in with you?” she asks when I stand there like an idiot, not saying anything else.

“Not at all. Ladies first.” I wave my hand, gesturing for her to go ahead of me.

Her lips press together in a tight smile before she does as I say.

It seems we’ve put our weapons away today, and I’m thankful because I don’t think I’d have the mental capacity to keep up with her sharp tongue.

I usually like our jabs. They’re entertaining, but it’s nice to walk beside her today.

When we get to the door, I reach around her to get it before she can open it herself. My chest brushes against her back, and I feel her inhale sharply. There’s hardly any contact between us, but it’s enough to set my skin on fire.

Swallowing hard, I force myself to put some space between us and open the door.

Lily nods but avoids my gaze. It’s for the best, but I can’t help wondering if she ever feels it, too—this electric current that seems to hum through the air when she’s around.

Finding out the answer to that will be something I never do, but it doesn’t stop me from wondering.

We are hardly in the door before my lawyer accosts us.

“Where have you been? I’ve sent you a hundred texts?

” Greg Abbott is a hotshot attorney who I hired at Hayes’s insistence.

I won’t deny that the man knows what he’s doing, but he also has no idea how to interact with humans.

He is straightforward and cut-throat one hundred percent of the time, which I guess is what you want in a lawyer .

“What do you mean?” I say, glancing at my watch. ‘You told me to be here by eleven, so we would have time to prep before.”

“Yes,” he says, removing his phone from his pants pocket and shoving it in my face.

“And if you had bothered to read your texts, you would have seen that I sent you not one, not two, but five messages explaining that Mr. Westbrook somehow managed to get the judge to move the hearing up. We have five minutes before we need to be in there.”

“What?” I roar. My pulse thunders in my ears, and my headache flares to life with the volume of my voice. But I can see it now, the way money will once again play a hand in this case. I haven’t even begun to fight yet, and I’m already losing. “How did that happen?”

Mr. Abbott’s dark eyes stare at me, his face blank, not a single emotion to be found, but I guess it’s not his kid he might be losing. “Would you rather stand here and hash out those details, Mr. Sylvis, or would you rather I do my job?”

I grit my teeth so hard I’m surprised they don’t break and debate how much jail time I might get for breaking my attorney’s nose.

A soft hand rests against my bicep, scalding me, and I turn my head just enough to see Lily give me an imperceptible shake of her head.

She’ll never know it, but she just saved Greg Abbott’s nose.

“Let’s go,” I say from between my teeth.

Mr. Abbott spins on his heel, leaving Lily and me to follow, but I don’t make it a step before I stop again because Lily’s hand has moved from my arm to slip between my fingers.

I look down, stunned at how they fit perfectly together before I look back at Lily.

She’s watching me with that guarded mask she never takes off, but the longer I stare at her, the more she lets it slip away.

She squeezes my hand, and I squeeze hers back, a show of comfort without saying a word, before she drops it and follows my lawyer into the courtroom.

Tanner is already in the courtroom. Josephine has commandeered him to her side and has him tucked in beside her like a prized pet.

She always has been good at putting on a show, and boy, is she putting on one now.

She’s pushing back his hair and licking her thumb as if to wipe something off his face, all while he pulls away.

When she notices me, she glares, transforming her face from a socialite angel to the devil she is, but I seem to be the only one who notices.

Tanner looks at me, too, eyes darting between me and his mom, and I can tell he’s torn as to where he should be—so I make it easy on him, shaking my head to tell him to stay where he is.

He sinks back into his seat, obviously relieved he doesn’t have to make the choice, and I try not to take it to heart.

Eric sits beside Josephine, looking like he has a million better places to be, and when I catch his eye, he has the audacity to smirk.

He thinks they’ve already won because he was able to get the hearing moved up, but what he doesn’t realize is that even if I lose here today, I won’t quit.

I will fight for my son until my very last breath if that’s what it takes.

I have seventeen years of not fighting for him to make up for, and that starts now.

I follow my attorney to our seats, and Lily sits behind us. Josephine glares at her, too, but Lily ignores her. It makes me want to laugh because if there’s one thing Josephine can’t stand, it’s being ignored.

“All rise,” the bailiff calls, and everyone stands as the judge enters the room.

There are three judges in Benton Falls, and as ours approaches his bench, I realize exactly how Eric managed to get the time moved up because, according to local gossip, Judge Ranker loves a good bribe. And Eric has the pockets deep enough to have made it a good one.

Beside me, Greg curses, having arrived at the same conclusion.

The last time I was in court to get emergency custody, Judge Howard was on the bench. She was fair and listened to what I had to say. I don’t think I’ll be getting that same respect today.

“You may be seated,” Judge Ranker says, sweeping his robes behind him and sitting down.

He’s an older man with thinning hair and eyes so dark they look lifeless.

His gaze goes straight to me, and he looks at me as if he smells something distasteful.

I try to keep from returning that same look, but I must not do a good job because Greg kicks my ankle from beneath the table.

Without turning my head, I slice my eyes to him.

His jaw is clenched tight, a muscle bobbing directly in the center.

That one muscle speaks louder than words.

Sighing, I turn my eyes back to the judge and rearrange my features into a tightened smile.

Judge Ranker purses his lips but says nothing as he slips on a pair of reading glasses and flips through some papers.

He takes his time, and the longer he takes, the more unease crawls across my skin.

My palms are starting to sweat, and my heart is racing a mile a minute by the time he finally looks back up.

“We are here today to discuss the custody agreement for your son, Tanner Sylvis, correct?” He asks, only looking at me.

“Yes, sir.”

“And you were granted emergency custody last fall, is that correct?”

“Yes, sir,” I say again, sounding like a parrot.

“And before then? Where were you?”

My throat aches when I swallow. I knew that was coming, but how do you explain that you became an addict because of an unfair system to begin with?

“I, uh—I wasn’t in my son’s life, sir.”

“I realize that,” he says, lowering his glasses to the tip of his nose and looking at me over the top, “but that is not what I asked. I asked where you were.”

“I was living in Sheridan at the time.”

It’s the town where Josephine and I grew up. It’s about an hour from here. I spent every day knowing my son was only an hour away, and I couldn’t see him .

“And did you have a means of transportation?”

I grit my teeth, already seeing where this is going.

“Yes, sir.”

“And yet your contact with your son before last fall was regulated to letters and phone calls. Is that correct?” He’s looking at me as if I’m the scum of the earth, and I don’t blame him.

If a father stood before me saying he had no contact with his son, I would probably judge him, too.

Shame burns my face, and I find I can’t answer him.

Thankfully, Greg steps in. “Mr. Sylvis’s actions were in accordance with the prior custody agreement, Your Honor.”

The judge grunts but doesn’t say anything as he looks back on his papers. When he looks back up, I know he’s already made his decision. I can see it in the contempt burning in his eyes.